Train
by Ygrayne
Summary: Lucy's struggle with her double identity as she stands up for Peter in a fight - and the aftermath. One-shot.


_**In the movies, we only ever see Lucy as a mild-mannered, patient, sweet girl. So what's Lucy like when she gets angry? After her Golden Age in Narnia, she must have had problems hiding her other personality as a majestic Queen. (Yes, she probably was majestic!) No matter what the four kids look like on the outside, they are adult rulers inside, and the only time your real character shows through is usually when you get angry.**_

_**And so here's a scene not seen very often in fanfics – Lucy defending her brother Peter, instead of her elder siblings protecting her as usual. **_

_**Disclaimer: Peter and Lucy aren't mine, nor are any characters that appear in the books or movies. **_

The electric train whizzed round and round on its tiny track, a miniature engineer's horn letting off trumpet-like blasts every few moments. Lucy pressed her nose against the glass windowpane, peering longingly into the shop, her eyes fixed on the shelf where the wonderful train was displayed.

In Narnia she had been a Queen, an adult with no time for toys. But that had all been nearly a year ago, and she had only just gotten used to being a mere nine-year-old English schoolchild again. And although Aslan had said they would return to Narnia sometime, it hadn't happened yet, and the train was a very nice one…

'Lucy?' Peter had gone on ahead; now he came back to her side, both their satchels slung over his shoulder. Edmund was home with a cold, as was Susan, and so it had fallen to him to drop Lucy off before he went to his own school across the street. 'Come on, what are you waiting for? You don't want to be late for your lessons, do you?'

Lucy shook her head. Her nose and hands had made tiny prints on the shop window. 'It's a lovely train,' she whispered.

Peter followed her gaze. 'Have you got the money for it?'

Lucy shook her head again. Her eyes dropped, then looked up at him with sudden hope. '_You've _got money.'

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, Lu. It's a lot of money.' And watched Lucy's shoulders droop in disappointment as she reluctantly turned away from the shop and followed him down the street.

But Lucy could never stay sad for long. It was only rarely that she got to walk to school and back with her adored eldest brother, just the two of them. The long absence from Narnia had hit Peter harder than any of the others, and sometimes he was harsh and curt with his siblings for no reason. But he was always nice to _her_.

At the end of lessons Lucy ran over to Peter's school, peeping curiously at the students who came traipsing out with their bags on their arms. This mysterious 'other school' where the older boys and girls went. She and Edmund were still relegated to the younger children's school, but Lucy was dying to know what it was like. And though Peter had told her to wait at her own school-gate as she and Edmund always did, there's always room for a change…

Lucy cocked her head, listening. There was no more than the everyday sounds of an everyday school – chatter, footsteps, the thump of satchels against backs. But then she heard the fight.

It wasn't like people didn't fight in _her_ school – anyone who thinks young children don't clash among themselves is completely mistaken. But this one sounded rough. Lucy, compassionate as always, winced at the sound of someone being thrown violently against the floor. She _had _to go and help whoever was getting hurt. Quickly, hurriedly, she ran towards the source of the noises, her small body ducking and leaping unnoticed through the crowds of teenagers.

It was more like a brawl than a fight. Three boys, all far bigger than herself, were hopelessly tangled in a vicious struggle on the floor, two of them pummelling the other as he thrashed futilely against their strong hands pinning him down. At least a dozen students were gathered around them, cheering and laughing – _why doesn't any of them stop the fight?_ – as the two boys aimed blow after awful blow at the boy on the floor. Blood and bruises and mingled yells of triumph and pain, nearly drowned out by the racket of the onlookers. Lucy shuddered.

And then the boy struggling on the floor turned his head, and she saw that it was Peter.

'Peter!' Lucy screamed before she could stop herself. Nobody heard her amidst all the noise, but then she rushed forward, flinging herself over her brother, trying in vain to push the other two boys away. 'Peter, Peter, are you all right?'

There was blood on his face and a great scratch across his eye, and dreadful bruises where he had been punched and kicked and slammed into the floor. Lucy had never thought any of her brothers could ever get into a fight, much less be beaten up so badly. And yet Peter, High King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, her beloved brother and protector and the one who always understood – pushed her off with a furious snarl. She stared at him, horrified.

'What are you _doing_?' he hissed.

The onlooking students jeered at Lucy, swore at her and told her to get the bloody hell out of here and stop interrupting a good fight. The two boys who had been fighting Peter towered over her, trying to get at Peter. They wouldn't strike Lucy – they would not hit a little girl – but they sneered at her, their contemptuous faces somehow worse than if they had treated her as they had Peter. She was surrounded by derisive booing teenagers and even Peter had rejected her, and Lucy felt suddenly small and alone and helpless. Scorned by her brother, mocked by a crowd.

Lucy could have faced an entire Calormene army with only a dagger in her hand, could have faced certain death as she had so many times before in Narnia. But not this. Never this.

'What's a little kid like you doing over here?' demanded one of the boys, battered and bloody from fighting, his face twisted in a mocking leer. Sometimes, he thought, picking on children was much more fun than a fight.

It was the worst thing he could possibly have said.

_I am not a little kid!_

Lucy felt the sudden blaze of wrath, sweeping her up, giving her the strength to face these horrible – these horrible _children_. Yes. They were children, but she was not! First they had brutally attacked her brother and High King, and now they had insulted _her_ – she, Queen of Narnia, who had seen and done things none of them could ever imagine. Lucy drew herself up to her full height, her eyes flaming with a fury that made the older boys step back, though they were both more than a head taller than herself. Before this she had been the little nine-year-old girl everyone thought she was. Now she was a Queen again, terrifying in her anger, and _they _only pathetic commoners cowering at her feet.

'Stay away from my brother,' Lucy said quietly. Her voice was low, but it seemed to carry to the very ends of the crowd, and there was something in it that made even the taunting students fall suddenly silent.

'Oh, he's your brother is he?' the other boy sneered. 'What a sissy. He can't stand up for himself, so babies like you have to do it for him?'

'_Silence!_'

Lucy heard her voice snap, lightning-like, throughout the whole school hall. She did not care if they thought her strange, if they thought the peculiar _royalty _of her anger suspicious. She _was_ a Queen, she was Narnian, and she was tired of pretending not to be. The teenagers were all completely still, watching her, astonished and fearful. Even Peter stared up at her from where he sat bleeding.

She took a step towards the boy who had spoken, and saw with satisfaction that he actually backed away a little. 'Do you dare speak this way to me? To _me_?' She was magnificent herself under her magnificent High King, defending one of her loved ones, the joy of battle fierce and exhilarating in her heart. No, Lucy had not lost the spirit of Narnia after all. It was still there in her blood.

'You will not lay hands on my brother Peter,' Lucy hissed. She knew her speech was that of a adult royal personage, not of the English child they all knew; she knew she was being wildly reckless in behaving like who she truly was, but she didn't care. 'Or my sister. Never again! You may think me little. But you touch Peter _one more time_ –' Her voice swelled like thunder. '– and I _swear_, young or no, kids or no, my brother Edmund and I will make you _PAY_!'

Her voice cracked like a whiplash on the last word. They flinched, they actually flinched. In a strange way Lucy found herself towering over them now, almost majestic in her Narnian power. And she saw with ferocious triumph that the boys began to back away, the students began to disperse. She had _won_. As an English schoolgirl she had been mocked, but as the Narnian Queen she knew herself really to be, she had won.

Lucy turned to Peter, a smile of jubilation on her face. But she saw, to her surprise, that Peter's eyes were cold and angry. He got up without a word, picked up his satchel and headed for the gate.

'Peter?' said Lucy, running after him. 'Peter!' Her voice was high and little-girl-like again. Where was the regal air she had felt only a moment ago? Where was _Narnia_? Suddenly she was aware of how small she was, dressed in drab uniform.

_Why_, thought Lucy in a panic, _I can't talk and act like a Queen any more! I feel like – like a child!_

She tried to grasp at the thrilling exultation she had felt. But it was gone, and Peter's face was twisted in a sullen scowl and her victory felt empty and ridiculous.

_I've lost it. I don't feel Narnian any more._

And it seemed to Lucy that her heart would break.

As they left the school Peter unexpectedly turned on her. 'I told you to stay at the gate!' He was angry, not the anger of a High King but that of an affronted teenager. And now Lucy saw his point of view. To those boys she might have been frightening, imposing. But to Peter she would always be his baby sister. And how embarrassing is it to have your baby sister fight your battles for you?

'Peter,' Lucy protested, 'they were beating you up!'

'You wouldn't have _seen _it if you'd just done what I told you to!'

'Would you prefer me to have left you alone, then?' she demanded. 'They were killing you!'

He was silent.

'Look at me, Peter,' Lucy said. She felt so young now, just a little girl arguing with her big brother. 'You're always saying that you're a High King, and that people shouldn't treat you like a kid. Well, I'm not a kid either! That wasn't a kid sister sticking up for her brother, it was a Queen sticking up for her High King!'

Peter looked at her for a moment, then abruptly resumed walking at a much faster pace. Lucy had to run to keep up with him, and then just barely. And as they passed the toy shop where that electric train still went round and round on the shelf, Lucy found herself looking longingly at it.

_I am a child, just a child, now…_

She clenched her fists, ashamed.

Peter had been walking with his head bowed, frowning. But he saw her look at the train and glanced up sharply. Seeing Lucy as the nine-year-old girl she was. His little sister, who had stood up for him when he was in trouble and whom he had shouted at in return.

Their eyes met.

Peter hesitated for only a moment. And then he took her hand and pulled her into the shop. Took that train off the shelf and bought it with his own money and put it, very carefully, into Lucy's hands.


End file.
